To The Wind
by Brok3nQuill
Summary: A collection of proposal one-shots. Caution isn't getting Harry anywhere in a duel, Ron's forgotten something, Teddy's being a bit flippant, Rose has just thrown a spanner in Scorpius's plans, and James is a fool. More to come.
1. While Dueling, Spontaneously

Harry Potter: The-Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, and the Dark Lord's conqueror himself, crouched behind a large rock contemplating just how important his next move was going to be. He'd been in situations like this before. Indeed, during the second Wizarding War, he'd been thrown in the path of peril more times than he cared to count. Throughout his shining career as an Auror he'd cornered, and on occasion been cornered by, countless Dark Wizards. However, he'd never had trouble selecting an appropriate spell before. He began to worry if he was letting this duel get to him. Surely, he wasn't losing touch, was he?

Over and over again, he ran his options through his head, trying to nail down one specific spell as his best course of action.

_Expelliarmus? Perhaps. Levicorpus? Possibly. Pertrificus Totalus? Probably not – it would take too long to shout the incantation. Impedimentia? It would certainly work, that's for sure. Stupefy? No, Stupefy definitely lacked subtly and finesse. He _was_ Harry Potter, after all._

He was totally at a loss as to which spell to use. He certainly didn't want to hurt his target – that was for sure. He most certainly didn't want, or need, that. Sitting here hiding behind to rock surely wasn't helping the situation either: he was almost certain that while he dithered, his quarry would be doing their best to stalk him in turn. Resigned to the fact that if he didn't do something soon, he'd end up finding himself caught in an ambush, Harry decided that the most direct course of action was probably best. That'd work, he was sure – just jump right out from behind the rock and fling whatever spell came to mind.

Or it would backfire terribly.

Steeling himself, he tensed his legs and shifted his wand carefully in his hand to make sure he had it properly in his grip. Sometimes, ever so occasionally, he lamented his decision to not keep the Elder Wand with him. It would've surely come in handy here – given him the edge he needed. He knew quite well that his quarry was quite well known for her duelling prowess, hexes in particular. Having the Elder Wand would surely have granted him an edge both magically and psychologically.

Holding himself entirely still, he listened carefully for any sounds of movement. Nothing but quiet graced his ears for perhaps half a minute until – _there!_ – he heard the quietest rustle of dry leaves shifting underfoot off to his left. His initial suspicious had been correct. While he'd been taking cover, his opponent had been carefully making her way around to flank him.

_Crafty little thing._ He mused quietly, tensing himself ready to spring. As she took another step, fast as lightning, he sprang, swirling as he rose from cover to face his opponent.

"Expelli..." She started to shout – but he was faster.

"Levicorpus!" He cried, his wand finding his target with practiced ease. Almost faster than he had cast the spell, she rose up as if caught in an invisible rope trap around her leg, her wand clattering to the ground as it slipped from her hand. Harry smiled – as usual; he was again the victor.

"Harry, you bastard! Let me down, right this minute or I swear, I'll... I'll..." she cried, her shouts losing volume as she struggled to find something to threaten him with. Striding confidantly towards her, Harry merely laughed as he savoured another victory.

He continued to approached his opponent carefully – just because she was disarmed didn't mean she wasn't dangerous – until he was almost in arms reach.

"Harry! Harry! You do _not_ want to make me angry, Potter! Did you not hear me? I... I swear, if you don't let me down now..."

Grabbing her by the arm (which was admittedly a bit awkward because she was hanging upside down in the air) Harry spun his incapacitated victim around until she hung face to face with him, and smiling broadly, pressed his lips to hers. From underneath their kiss, Harry could have sworn he heard the words 'let me down' and 'bastard', but they sounded more or less like: "Mfffph Mff Mmm. Mffdph." when he ignored what he expected she was saying.

Despite himself, he smiled. Eventually, as interesting as the sensation of kissing somebody upside down was, both of them needed air, and Harry broke away, stepping back a little to ensure that he wouldn't find himself caught in any sort of flailing.

And flailing did ensue.

"Harry James Potter!" She cried. "If you do not let me down this minute you will never get to do that again, upside down or no!"

"Ginny?" asked Harry – suddenly struck with an impulse he felt he might end up regretting in a few short moments. All he knew was that hanging there flustered and angry had somehow managed to capture Ginny's beauty perfectly in Harry's mind.

"What!?" she screamed, her flailing increasing in intensity. "What could you possibly want _right now_, while I hang here upside down with blood rushing in my ears?"

Harry gulped. He was about to cross the point of no return. Some disjointed part of his brain realised that in the back of his head he was screaming at himself, _What on earth do you think you're doing?_, but he carried on nonetheless.

"Ginerva?" He mumbled, a nervous smile breaking out on his face as his mind attempted to derail this most foolish of plans. _She's upside down, for God's sake! _It called, but he ignored everything he was thinking, ploughing on regardless. Later, Harry would reflect that the moment had just seemed right.

"Ginerva Molly Weasley? Would you..." he faltered, every fibre of his soul committed and every node of his brain screaming _No! Fool!_ "would you marry me?" Blushing awkwardly, Harry fumbled clumsily with the pouch around his neck, withdrawing from the old and worn moleskin a ring he'd been keeping with him for some time now – ever since a few short weeks ago, when, quite sheepishly, he'd asked Arthur Weasley for permission to marry his daughter. He knew that if she saw the ring, then perhaps she'd know he'd at the very least _thought_ about the proposal, that it wasn't just some throwaway gesture.

Once he'd freed the ring that had once belonged to his mother, he held it out to the woman hanging upside down before him, deciding to forgo the traditional kneeling to ensure they were more or less eye to eye.

Even upside down, Ginny managed to look appropriately shocked.

"Harry, I'd just like to check something first." She spoke softly, almost whispering. Beginning to panic, all Harry could manage was a simple dumb nod.

"You didn't just propose to me while I was hanging upside down because of a Levicorpus jinx you yourself cast, did you?"

No longer in the preliminary stages of panic, Harry could barely manage to even nod this time. _Ginny is right, _Harry thought, _what was I thinking?_

"That has to be the stupidest excuse for a proposal I've ever heard." Ginny cried, waving her arms in a frantic attempt to impart emphasis. Crestfallen at her apparent rejection, Harry's shoulders slumped.

"And yes," she shouted, "of course I will."

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Author's Note: My first (published) Fanfic, although I do have a few others I'm working on in various stages of incompleteness. It's a (kinda) little oneshot I dreamed up while trying to imagine the stupidest way you could propose to somebody. I figured while you had them suspended upside down would work, and, hey presto: Harry Potter fanfiction.

I'm thinking I might take a shot at writing some other proposals. Writing this gave me some ideas. There may or may not be a Ron/Hermione proposal in the works sometime tomorrow.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. Reviews would be nice, I guess.


	2. After Work, Romantically

Author's Note: New One-shot! For the purposes of this fic, Hermione is working for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, while Ron is working as an Auror, as according to various sources of canon information regarding their lives post DH. Where they live isn't really important – some apartment somewhere in Muggle or Wizarding London, I guess.

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Hermione appeared, quite suddenly, at the door to her apartment with the telltale 'Pop' of an apparating witch or wizard and, balancing a bag filled to bursting with various official looking documents, began searching for her apartment key. On any other day, of course, she probably would've taken the Floo Network straight from work right into her own lounge room. Today, however, she'd been interviewing a couple of centaurs regarding the finer points of centaur law to ensure Legislation she was working on wouldn't offend the centaurs as a whole once passed, and the forest she'd been doing it in, quite understandably, didn't have a fireplace.

Once she'd located her key and redistributed her belongings so that she could open the door without dropping anything, Hermione preceded inside, and, with a flourish of her wand, sent the mountain of paperwork she'd been carrying fluttering upstairs. Satisfied the various charms she'd cast on her own study were now doing their best to organise the files for her, she set to work (with a few lazy flicks of her wand) cleaning up the mess Ronald had no doubt made between her leaving this morning and he himself heading off for work.

Sometimes she wondered if he purposely tried to make as much mess as possible, knowing he would have only had at most fifteen minutes alone in their flat before having to leave for work. Despite herself, she smiled as clothing, dirty dishes and a discarded newspaper floated by her, each bobbing its way towards the appropriate place for such mess. Awkwardly (as skilled as she was, Hermione had never been that great at housework or cooking charms) she caught the plate Ron had eaten breakfast off before it dropped into the sink, letting the buttery knife fall with a clatter. Another flick of her wand brought her scrubbing brush and the tap to life, and she turned to survey the apartment as they began cleaning the few dishes left without requiring her attention.

It was then that she noticed the ring lying on the counter before her. Immediately, her stomach plummeted and the rest of her insides flared.

_No!_ She snapped internally, crying out to herself. _I can't believe the imbecile! _Exasperated, Hermione smacked the counter with her hands, her wand landing with a frighteningly loud _rap_ and spraying a few angry sparks.

_He's left his__ damn engagement ring sitting on the kitchen counter! _She cried to herself. I _can't believe him. He's ruined it all again!_

Pouting, she recalled the first date they'd ever been on, a few short months after the fall of Voldemort – how Ron had stuttered, knocked over glasses and just generally been clumsy. In hindsight, the entire episode was delightfully adorable – a major part of why Hermione found herself happy to wake up beside the young Auror everyday – but at the time it had been frustrating and embarrassing. It had been just like their first Christmas alone together: Ron had overcooked the turkey and undercooked the vegetables; even with all the cooking charms his mother had spent weeks showing him.

That episode had been immediately adorable, and they'd laughed together about it as they ate pizza and drank wine well into the night, but Hermione had lamented the loss of a romantic evening over the next few years as time together had become harder to come by, what with their jobs and family dominating every minute.

_And now this!_ She thought, hovering near tears from sheer frustration. _He can't even propose without ruining the surprise, spoiling it! Now I know. The idiot!_

Frowning, but nonetheless overcome with curiosity, she reached out to pick up the ring, to examine it just a little closer. As her hand closed around the delicate band, the strangest sensation crept over her, until, suddenly. _Bang! _She heard a crack somewhere behind her, and, out of the blue, something was suddenly pulling at the back of her navel and she was spinning wildly and she could have _sworn_ something strange was happening to her clothes as they began to prickle all of a sudden...

And then there he was, down on one knee and dressed in the finest dress robes she'd ever seen, cut in soft crimson and rich, velvety navy. And she – she was wearing a stunning dress where moments before she'd been in worn, practical hiking gear for her interview with the centaurs – and it was bright crimson to match his robes and... _Oh my God! _She was on the roof of their apartment and it was absolutely overflowing with roses and the air was sparkling with golden dust like it was snowing and it was all just too much and her head was spinning like you wouldn't believe!

"Hermione," he spoke, his voice brimming with delight at the shock and wonder on her face, "will you marry me?"

The one, single word fell out of her mouth before she'd even managed to comprehend what he was asking or where she was.

"Yes."

~~*~~

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Author's Note: I don't know how those last few paragraphs read, because I wrote them myself and I know what they're supposed to feel like (so that's what they feel like to me), but I was trying for as rushed a feel as I could get with my writing to put across the surprise and shock Hermione's feeling. So if they felt awkward the first time you read them, I apologise. Try going back and reading from where she picks up the ring as fast as you can and see if that works any better.

And by fast I mean Reallyreallyfastlikeyou'resupposedtoreadwordswithoutspaces, fast.

Also, reviews are nice. I have a couple more ideas for some other couple's proposals, too, so we'll see where that goes in the next few days.


	3. On a Beach, Flippantly

Author's Note: Apologies for anybody who's been waiting. I recently acquired a casual beta for my work (he's a friend of mine from that dreaded RL we all hear so much about) and he's been just a little distracting when it comes to actually finishing my work. But the third piece is here, now. This time, it's Teddy and Victoire's turn. This piece is dedicated to (in addition to **anyankafan**, my beta) _alitiae_, _sunshinefarah_, _hptrump_ and _rexrocks1994_, who were kind enough to post me a review on this here fic. Thanks guys.

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The waves rolled back and forth lazily as Teddy stared out at the ocean, running his hands adoringly through the hair of the young woman lying before him. While all he could see was the back of her head, he suspected she, too, was smiling stupidly. Each time he ran his fingers across her head, Victoire would hum quietly, her fingers tracing lines in the sand in time with his through her hair. They'd spent the last six hours – having missed lunch – staring out to sea, doing nothing but enjoying each other's presence and talking fitfully.

Victoire had returned to England from six months in France just two days ago – and both were a little fatigued in the wake of dinner at the Burrow with every single member of the extended Weasley family. That and a rather spirited day of 'catching up' that had melted into the very small hours of the night left them drained of any desire to move any time before the sun set.

Together, they were happy to just lie in the sand and enjoy each other's presence.

"Teddy?" asked Victoire, barely audibly.

"Mmm?" He hummed back, tilting her head back gently with his hands so that they could make eye contact.

"I love you." She whispered. "You know that?"

"Yeah, I do."

Smiling, Victoire shifted to watch the waves, nestling a little closer to her lover. Teddy shifted slightly in the sand, wrapping his arms around the blonde beauty before him.

"Victoire?" asked Teddy, mimicking her earlier tone. At his question, her smile grew even larger – a feat any onlooker would've thought impossible if they hadn't actually witness it themselves.

"Yes, Teddy-bear?" She chirped, using – with quite a substantial dose of cheek – her own personal pet name for him.

"I love you," he breathed quietly into her ear, "you know that?"

"Yeah," she smiled, "yeah, I do."

Planting a kiss on the back of his girlfriend's head, Teddy breathed deeply, taking in the aroma of her shampoo. He'd always loved her hair; How if the sun caught it _just right _it showed the barest hint of the strawberry he called 'French Blonde' because he knew it annoyed her.

As he watched the waves roll back and forth, Teddy could tell Victoire was growing restless, having spent the past six hours doing absolutely nothing. He wondered, quietly, if that was a record for her.

"Teddy," she whined, "we should do something."

Teddy smiled. He was a little offended she didn't find doing nothing with her boyfriend satisfying enough, considering he was certain he could have spent eternity watching the waves with her. But that was Victoire.

"You're right. Let's get married." He quipped, smiling wildly.

"Teddy! Don't joke about that! Be serious!"

A little angry at her boyfriend, Victoire turned around violently – kicking up sand as she did – to hit him playfully on the shoulder. Teddy just laughed in the face of her stern, disapproving look, pushing her back and sending her sprawling across the sand. She squealed, and quickly, a playful struggle ensued, each trying to secure a position above the other and pin them in the sand. After rolling back and forth once or twice, that struggle dissolved into a sand fight, each throwing handfuls back and forth at each other.

Victoire, quite sneakily, waited until Teddy was doing his best to scoop up as much sand as he possibly could to withdraw her wand. Once he'd filled both hands, she struck, a lazy flick of her wand turning the sand to water. From there, it was only one or two overenthusiastic spells before they were both absolutely drenched in water and covered in wet sand.

Eventually, they both gave in – almost simultaneously – and collapsed, together, on the now very wet sand. Overcome with laughter at their antics, they did manage to claw their way to each other before collapsing completely. Together, they sank halfway into the sand, lying partly on top of, and next to, each other.

Victoire frowned, running her hands through her matted hair. Teddy laughed softly as she did her best to remove any sand.

"Damn it, Teddy. Be serious next time. You see what joking around does? You've ruined my hair, now."

"Alright," he smiled "I'll be serious." Ignoring the slightly shocked look on his girlfriend's face, Teddy quickly searched through the wet sand around them both for a shell.

Once he'd found one – a particularly tiny spiral shell no bigger than the fingernail on his own pinkie finger – he turned back to Victoire, who, to his amusement, was stuck somewhere between disbelief and anticipation. Smiling, he stole a loose hair she'd dislodged from her head whilst cleaning away the sand, and carefully wound it around the ring finger of her left hand.

By this point, most of the anticipation had melted from her face, leaving behind only shock, but Teddy soldiered on. Carefully, Teddy held the tiny shell on top of the hair, and – with a tap of his wand and a muttered incantation – transfigured the shell and hair into a ring with a flash of light. Victoire gasped, which Teddy thought was quite appropriate: that kind of spell was incredibly difficult to perform.

"It's beautiful." She muttered, her voice heavy with awe, and deservedly so.

The shell had been transfigured into a sparkling diamond cut in the same spiral it had once been, while her hair had turned to a thin gold band in which the stone was set. It was a spell alchemists had spent lifetimes creating. Teddy didn't want to admit it, but his head was spinning more than a little from casting such a difficult it – after all, you couldn't just turn anything to gold without _considerable _effort.

"Victoire?" whispered Teddy, cradling her hand in his own. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" She squealed, throwing herself at her fiancé and kissing him fiercely on the lips. Laughing, Teddy rolled over so that he lay above her instead, kissing her back just as fiercely. After they'd spent an amount of time interlocked only freshly engaged couples could understand – let alone bear – they broke apart beamingly stupidly. Teddy collapsed back onto the sand, disbelief showing clearly on his face.

He was engaged to his girlfriend of three and half years whom he hadn't seen for the past six months outside of the occasional visit. In short – he was ecstatic. Glancing over at his girlfr- fiancé, however, made it clear she was not.

Panicking at the frown on her face, Teddy bolted upright. "V-Victoire, what's wrong?" He spluttered.

"You ruined my hair!" She laughed "Again!"

~~*~~

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Author's Note: Review's are great! I'd also be happy to hear if there are any requests for particular couples. I have a Rose and Scorpius piece banging around in my head, so that might appear here sometime in the next week - if I can nail down the details of the proposal. Right now all I have is vague ideas. Wish me luck.

~ Quill.


	4. In Bed, Inopportunely

Author's Note: Apologies to anybody who was waiting, because I took the term 'sometime in the next week' quite liberally. But here it is, Rose and Scorpius. Thanks again to **anyankafan**, who kindly beta'd for me, yet again.

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Rose lay tangled in a mass of white silk, completely exhausted. She was, though loath to admit it, panting lightly. Her head was spinning just a little and her heart pounded in her chest. Listening carefully, she was able to hear the slow, measured breath of Scorpius next to her, and the fact _he_ wasn't panting _too_ made her just a little angry. Or at least, that was what she was telling herself, because Rose Weasley was having trouble feeling anything but bliss and exhaustion in her current condition. In truth, she was a little jealous Scorpius was fit enough to (and here, her mind cast around for a word that wouldn't make her blush) _exert _himself for an hour and a half and then recover so quickly, but she didn't want to admit that. Once she'd (again, her mind cast about for something that would provoke a blush) _finished_, he'd fallen back, rolled over and sighed contentedly – the only indication they'd been doing anything more spirited than simply laying there the entire time. And it had been an awful lot more spirited than that, for certain. There –

_Merlin's pants! Now I'm blushing __**again**__. _Huffed Rose, folding her arms across her chest and praying Scorpius didn't notice. It pleased him to no end he had such control over Rose's body, and proof he was able to make her blush almost on command just fuelled his teasing. And of course, it wasn't just blushing he could make her do. There were other more – and Rose's blushed deepened – intimate reactions, one of which Rose was currently enjoying the afterglow of, that he seemed able to induce whenever he desired.

Rose smiled, remembering fondly when he hadn't been so skilled, how nervous and excited he'd been at the start of their relationship. He had been convinced his parents would 'flip' if they ever discovered Scorpius was more than friends with Rose – their precious son and only heir interested in a half-blood. Rose, too, was worried just how her parents would react when they found out. Her father, Ronald, had disapproved enough of their friendship, telling her time and time again the same stories of Malfoy treachery.

In the end, the revelation they were dating had been quite anticlimactic. Draco had merely asked Scorpius if 'it was serious' and accepted it when his son said that it was. Ron, of course, had been furious – he simply stormed out of the house upon being told. Rose had later learned he'd gone to complain to Harry about 'the Malfoy brat', but that after a bottle of Firewhiskey seemed to find the entire situation delightfully amusing.

So here they were, lying in bed at the 'Malfoy summer house', on which Scorpius has spent a week disabling the various security charms that protected it. Rose had almost burst with excitement when he told her he had done so without his parent's knowledge so he and Rose could steal a few short days break in complete and absolute solitude.

Since they'd arrived, Scorpius had been pampering Rose to no end, celebrating their four year anniversary over four days. There'd been massages, baths and beauty treatments, which Scorpius had apparently spent months studying. Rose felt like a princess, not having to lift a finger or care about anything but the next chocolate covered strawberry or loving kiss.

She of course had not even considered, that perhaps the goblin made, hand crafted family heirloom that lay hidden in Draco's study was destined for the fourth finger of her left hand. He'd placed it there shortly before collecting Rose and bringing her to the house, and it was one of two rooms neither youth had entered since they'd arrived. Rose, of course, was doing her best to respect the Malfoy family's privacy, and so hadn't even seen it, yet.

And it was that fact that made the idea that had just sprung to her mind so inopportune. Today was their four year anniversary. They'd just woken up and – well, a lady didn't talk about that sort of thing. There was nothing, she reasoned, that was could make this moment more perfect.

Nothing, that is, but a proposal.

She toyed with her wand absentmindedly, spinning it between her fingers as she tried to work up the courage to ask the Malfoy lying at her side to marry her. Meanwhile, just across the bed, he stared lovingly down at her, tying up the final details of _his_ meticulously planned proposal, doing his best to remain calm. To be honest, he was falling apart with nervousness, and he found it a miracle Rose hadn't noticed during their early morning activities between the sheets.

Scorpius had always tailored his attitudes and actions for the company he was in, and as a result, few people knew the real Scorpius, except Rose.

For his father, he was the good, pureblood son, doing his best to uphold the honour of the Malfoy house. For his friends at Hogwarts, and later the Ministry, he was Scorp, the quietly reserved, hard working but helpful friend, who could always be counted upon to check a report or advise on a decision. On the Quidditch pitch, he had been the no nonsense, dynamo seeker who had saved Slytherin from a bottom of the chart defeat twice, and with Albus Potter leading the team in their seventh year, carried them to their first victory since Gryffindor had obtained the great James Potter as their Seeker some eight years ago. Of course, the Gryffindors had blamed the fact James had left Hogwarts the year previous on their loss, but the Slytherins had lauded Scorpius and Albus as Heroes nonetheless.

But for Rose, none of these acts worked, because what she wanted was the real Scorpius Malfoy – and not even he had been sure what that was. Of course, over the past four years he'd realised at least one thing about the real Scorpius Malfoy: that he wanted to someday marry the real Rose Weasley. He'd even spent the last two years earning the respect of one Ronald Weasley so he'd be able to do so with all his limbs intact.

And now – today, he was planning to propose over a candlelit dinner with an enchanted harp playing softly in the background and a –

"Scorpius?" Asked Rose, pulling him momentarily from his plans.

"Mmm?" He hummed, brushing aside her hair softly so he could see her face.

"I, um. I don't know how to say this..." She faltered, unsure of what she was doing. Scorpius smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek, reassuring her that whatever it was she wanted to say, she could just come out with it.

"Then just say it, love."

"O-Okay," she stammered. "I want you to marry me."

"What!?" He screamed, starting backwards in shock and somehow managing to fall out of the large, queen-sized double bed. To add to the embarrassment, he wasn't wearing anything but the sheet he'd just fallen from under – and so was now sitting on the lush carpet of his bedroom floor completely naked.

"I... I know it's supposed to be the man's place," gushed Rose, scrambling across the bed to make sure Scorpius was alright and to avert the disaster she felt coming on, "but, well, I love you, Scorp, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

She was a little frantic, scared Scorpius had jumped from the bed because he was about to refuse her proposal – which, on reflection, she realised sounded more like an instruction – and perhaps even break off the relationship in fear of the commitment. She was panicking he was going to say no, and, as hard as she was trying to school her face into something approaching calm so that she wouldn't panic Scorpius too, her nervousness showed in her eyes.

Scorpius, seeing the unsteadiness there, realised that if he said the wrong thing or even gave the impression he was about to say no, Rose would likely snap and she'd either be very angry, or very, very sad. Regardless, he was sure if he said the wrong thing he'd end up being hit at least a few times before Rose left the manor, most likely never to set foot on Malfoy property again.

"Rose," he said, holding out his hands halfway between trying to hug her and keep her at bay. "I want you to stay here for thirty seconds, and I don't want you to move. Okay?"

And before she could respond or start a conversation, which he knew would just collapse around them into a fight, he disapparated away with a _Pop_. Appearing in his father's study, and silently admonishing the fact he was nude – his father would have a fit if he knew he was in here unsupervised and clothed, let alone naked – he quickly threw open a small wooden box in the middle of the desk, withdrawing the ring within. Knowing time was of the essence, he apparated back to his bedroom immediately.

Rose gasped when Scorpius returned, unprepared for his appearance just moments after he'd left, then gasped again when she realised what he was holding in his hands. The tears of fear and sadness that had been threatening to show had he not returned soon suddenly turned to tears of joy.

"I did plan on clothes, originally, but let's try this again." He paused, savouring the surprise written all over her face, a laugh threatening to break its way through the famous Malfoy composure. He let it come – after all, he was proposing naked to a half-blood who was also a Weasley – there wasn't much Malfoy about it at all.

"Rose Weasley, I want _you_ to marry _me_."

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Author's Note: And that's that. Reviews would be nice. I know I've had about 330 visitors, but only five reviews from four reviewers. That's 0.012% of all visitors. Dysmal, dysmal effort there, people. Even if you don't like it, let me know _why_. I should, at this point, thank those who have reviewed, though: thanks guys. Up next, James and Lily after that, Remus and Tonks. Also, I think there might be a surprise in the works. Still taking requests for couples, although I guess we are starting to run out of couples. Also, reviews! Reviews are nice.

~ Quill.


	5. On One Knee, Surprisingly

Author's Note: Just a little something: that surprise I mentioned yesterday. Enjoy. :D

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James Potter was down on one knee, and in his hand was an engagement ring that had once belonged to his grandmother. While Lily, the girl he was proposing to, might not have seen this coming those James counted friends were well aware of his plan to propose – they'd even helped him plan it for maximum effect.

Kneeling, he beamed his characteristic James Potter smile, famous for its effect on practically every girl he had ever met. There were only two women immune to its spell, capable of weathering it without going weak at the knees.

The first was his mother.

"Lily Evans," he crooned, "will you marry me?"

"No!" she screeched, absolutely fuming and more than a little embarrassed. "What about 'I don't want to be your girlfriend' do you not understand, Potter!"

The second was Lily Evans.

James spluttered, his smile hidden behind a carefully schooled visage of mock seriousness. "But... But I'm not asking you to be my _girlfriend_. I'm asking you to marry me."

Behind him, his best friend – Sirius Black – was doubled over with laughter, trying his best to stay upright by hanging off the shoulder of Peter Pettigrew, who was in turn clutching onto Remus Lupin for support. Remus was staring disapprovingly at James, the only one of his three friends to take issue with James's latest prank.

Behind them, as well as behind Lily, two small crowds were gathering; waylaid on the way to the next class by the latest Marauder prank. James, staring adoringly at Lily as he waited for her to respond, was careful to note there were few Slytherins in the gathering crowd. The lack of any real Slytherin presence meant good odds Severus Snape, Lily's long-time friend and the only person brave – or foolish – enough to attempt to break up a Marauder prank wasn't about to turn up, which in turn meant he could press on.

He opened his mouth to profess his undying devotion to the red-headed beauty before him, but she – sensing an oncoming speech – cut him off, jumping in first.

"I can't believe you, Potter. I should have guessed you'd be too thick to understand that 'no I don't want to be your girlfriend' also means 'no I don't want to be your wife.'"

She paused to relocate the bag of books on her shoulder. Her face absolutely furious, her hand hovered dangerously close to the wand linked through two loops on her skirt. Sirius, who had until this point kept his laughter relatively quiet, seemed to find her outburst even more hilarious than James's foolish attempt a proposal. Unable to contain his mirth, he threw his head back and began laughing uproariously.

"And you three," screeched Lily, her attention drawn to the rest of the Marauders by Sirius's laughter, "should be ashamed of yourselves. I'd expect this from Potter – the moron – but guess I was wrong to think you three would've been smart enough to talk him out of it." Her voice fell, the anger replaced by disappointment. "Especially you, Remus. I thought _you_ were smarter than this, at least."

As Lily moved around James – who simply spun on his knee, still holding out his ring as if he expected her to accept his proposal at any moment – Remus merely shrugged. He, of the four Marauders, was on the best terms with Lily, a tentative friendship formed in the library and at dinner (whenever James and Sirius were in detention) leaving him with the job of mediator. He tried to impart in his frown that he had _tried_ to stop James, tried to save Lily the embarrassment, but that he'd obviously failed in his endeavour.

He took the fact Lily only shoved Sirius and Peter as she walked past as a sign she'd understood his silent apology, deciding to ignore the fact she only had two arms to shove with.

Sirius, having calmed down somewhat, merely waved at Lily's retreating back as she stormed down the hall, while Peter did his best to remain upright – nearly almost failing. Once she was gone, and the crowd was beginning to disperse, the three Marauders made their way over to James, who was still down on one knee, holding out his ring uselessly at what had been Lily's retreating back.

"Well, James," laughed Peter, "that went well."

"You kidding me, Wormy?" Barked Sirius, clapping his shorter friend on the back. "That was a disaster. I reckon Snivellus would've been more receptive."

"That probably wasn't wise, James." Counselled Remus, doing his best to affect a stern expression and ignore his two sniggering friends. "You know pulling stunts like this isn't going to help her warm to you."

James, a look of serene adoration painted on his face, chose to ignore Remus's counsel, shaking a slight 'no' ever so softly as he gazed at the place Lily had disappeared from sight.

"I dunno Moony, I think she'll come around."

Sirius chuckled. He'd seen less extraordinary things happen.

"Hey," he smiled, and idea popping into his head, "lets go find McGonagall. Be a shame to waste that ring on just one proposal, don't'cha think?"

~~*~~

* * *

Author's Note: I should point out that there will be a serious James/Lily proposal coming, which is what I'm writing up next. I just couldn't resist. I'm not sure if it's canon, or if it's just a popular scene to write in fanfiction, but does anyone ever mention James jokingly proposing to Lily in the books? I seem to remember, and again, I don't know if it was fanfiction or not, Remus telling Harry about it at some point. Anybody have an idea where it was (or if it was, at all)? If you do, drop me a review - or send me a message on my profile. Thanks in advance.

Also, thanks to **Lindsay(dot)Potter13** (sorry Lindsay, but putting the ' . ' between the words deletes them) for the review, and doubleplus thanks to **sunshinefarah** for _three_ reviews so far. (That's almost one each chapter.)

~ Quill.


	6. For a Second Time, Surprisingly again

~~*~~

Lily was stuck. Or at least pretending she was.

You see, James was out of Floo Powder, and you can't Apparate or Disapparate inside the Potter home, as there'd been a charm preventing it ever since the home had been built – because, let's face it, that's just plain rude. Of course, any Witch or Wizard would be perfectly capable of opening the front door, vanishing a path through the snow and walking to the front gate, but both Lily and James chose to ignore that fact.

Well, Lily had, anyway. James was obsessing over the possibility Lily wanted to leave and was simply yet to think of carving her way to the front gate. While she flicked lazily through a collection of photo albums James had gotten out, he stared out the window (itself covered almost entirely in snow) trying to fabricate an excuse for why she couldn't use spell work to leave. And he was coming up with absolutely nothing.

Lily, of course, had noticed James was no longer paying attention to her – his hug had slackened – and had guessed why his mind was elsewhere. As she Oohed and Aahed over the photos a little louder in an attempt to get his attention back, she couldn't help the amused grin that was slowly taking over her face.

"Pity it's so late." James's arms tensed as she spoke aloud. Lily just smiled, letting the statement hang in the air for a moment, savouring James's childish disappointment. That he was still smitten with her after three years together did wonders for the young woman's self esteem, and she was now equally obsessed with him as he had apparently always been with her.

"I bet my apartment's freezing, too..." Again, she let the sentence hang in the air, hoping James would catch on.

He didn't.

"James," she sighed, "I'm trying to get you to ask me to stay."

"Oh." James laughed. "You know you don't have to ask to stay. What's that Muggle saying you use? My Castle is Sue's Castle? I never understood that one."

Lily laughed. "It's 'Me casa, sue casa', James. It means my house is your house. It's Spanish, I think."

"Oh. Well that makes a bit more sense."

"You can be right dull sometimes, you know?" She asked, laughing at his uninformed attempts at Muggle sayings. James just shrugged.

"You knew that when you got into this deal."

"Ha!" She laughed. "You can say that again."

"You kne..."

"You were an absolute moron at school, you know?" Lily cut him off before he actually did say it again.

"Yeah," said James, his shoulders slumping a little, "I was."

"If you'd been something approaching normal I might've actually considered your advances earlier. Instead I had to wait all the way until seventh year before you acted your age."

"I remember that!" James interrupted, who then – with a massive smile across his face – held his wand to his throat, causing his voice to come out as a perfect imitation of hers. "I don't date twelve years old, James, and you're certainly acting like one."

"Urgh, and then you went and got Sirius to curse you with that horrible moustache that was just like Slughorn's to prove you weren't twelve." Lily groaned, covering her eyes in something between horror and humiliation while James began roaring with laughter.

"And then," he managed to squeeze out between fits of laughter, "when Slughorn was... was late for Potions, I stole Sirius's jumper–" he descended into another fit of laughter "–shoved it up my own and began... Even the Slytherin's thought it was hilarious..."

He launched into a pompous rant about what Lily assumed was Golpalott's Third Law (he was getting it all wrong, anyway) in a mockery of Slughorn's tone; which, despite herself, was making Lily smile. Only half listening to what James was saying, she descended into laughter with him when she remembered what had happened next.

"And then he came in from the Potion's office up the front of the room, and you didn't notice because you were facing everyone else!" She cried, leading James into another fit of roaring laughter at an even higher volume than before.

"The Slytherin's loved that one!" He managed to squeeze out. "A whole fifty three points from Gryffindor, one for each second it took to notice he was standing behind me."

Overcome, James was unable to remain on the couch they were sharing, and fell with a great _Thump _to the floor. Lily, of course, found this even more amusing than James's remembered humiliations, and began laughing so hard she had become unable to produce any sound, nor breathe properly. She eventually fell from the couch too, joining James on the floor as they rolled about. Each time they came close to controlling themselves all it took was one look into each other eyes and they began laughing again. Neither of them really knew why, but they simply couldn't stop.

Lily's squeals had eventually become silent gasps for air as her entire body shook with her mirth, while James continued to get louder and louder as he went, neither able to stop themselves until James – realising that as much fun as Lily was having, she was also in pain and having a little difficulty breathing – waved his wand in a quick, sharp movement, silencing the both of them.

Looking into each other's eyes, they nonetheless couldn't help breaking out in huge grins that threatened to boil over again, which was why James stood and strode determinedly out of the room.

A few short moments after he had left, and once she had made her way back to the couch, Lily could hear him banging about in the kitchen. He was obviously making something that was more than likely either cocoa or tea, she decided, as she could hear – faintly – the sounds of a kettle boiling.

"Cocoa?" He shouted, confirming her suspicions. She failed to notice the falter in his voice, the way it went just a little higher than was needed to turn the one word into a question.

"Yes please!" She cried back, perhaps a little louder than necessary.

After a while and another set of bangs and clinks from the kitchen, James returned – carrying with him two mugs. Lily failed to notice there was no steam rising from the second cup.

"Did you get marshmallows?" She asked, batting her eyelids in case he hadn't and also as somewhat of a thank-you for getting the hot cocoa in the first place.

"Not exactly." He shot back cryptically, a smile spreading across his face as he handed her mug without the small trails of steam rising from it.

"It's empty..." She said as she took it from him half heartedly and thoroughly confused.

"Well of course it is," replied James, "otherwise the cocoa would go everywhere when it turned into a ring."

"Into a what?" She asked; part of her confused and dumbfounded, but another, much smaller part understanding what he had just said and reeling at the ramifications.

James just smiled in reply, his mug disappearing with a lazy wave of his wand – which he then discarded. Clasping Lily's free hand in both of his he dropped down onto one knee and shook his head gently to remove a wayward strand of hair from his eyes. Lily – completely dumbfounded – just stared at the palm of her hand and at what had moments ago had been a mug.

"Lily Evans, will you marry me?"

She said nothing, staring dumbfounded at the ring in the palm of her hand – the very same ring James had used years ago in the halls of Hogwarts as a Marauders' prank.

She breathed in. He waited. She breathed out. He waited some more. She breathed in again.

Then out.

"Lily?" he asked, rising halfway off his knee and shuffling forward into something that was trying to be hug, but more or less failing. "Are you – are you alright?"

"Yes." She squeaked out, barely able to talk for the shock. "I-I'm fine. Yes, I'm fine James, yes."

It was somewhere around the third 'yes' that James caught on, and where he had been slumped in defeat moments before and unable to look his girlfriend in the eyes, he was now staring adoringly at Lily, hope gleaming from his.

"Yes? Does that mean–?" He started.

"Yes." Beamed Lily. "Yes it does."

James breathed out. Then he kissed her.

~~*~~

**Author's Note:** _Massive _apology to anybody who's been waiting. A combination of the classic writer's block, helping my mother move house, visiting my father in NSW, a couple of really good books, finally succeeding in finding a crack I've been looking for (and the resultant gaming), some original work I've been doing, as well as some poetry I've been working on has sidelined my fanfiction work as of late. But I finally managed to produce a James/Lily fic I liked, (I abandoned three other attempts for various reasons,) and here it is.

I didn't have my beta look at this, because that would've taken another day or two (we trade work on MSN, and I don't talk to him everyday) and I really did want to get this out as quickly as possible. The main reason it's been this long between updates is because I discovered something magical and wonderful known as Wizard Rock, which has been soaking up all my Harry Potter fanboy time, severely limited in the first place by all the above. It's basically what it sounds like (and just as nerdy): Harry Potter Themed Music. But I'm back now, hopefully, as Uni restarting roundabout now should settle things down.

Anyway, Remus/Tonks, next, sometime in the next few weeks, which'll probably be it for this little collection. But never fear - there are other pieces in the works. If you're especially aware and deduct-ful (I know that's not a word) you'll have probably figured out the premise for my next work.

And apparently I really like brackets. Remus/Tonks soon. I promise.


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